


Family Ties

by trascendenza



Category: Threshold
Genre: F/M, Family, Gen, POV Character of Color, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-27
Updated: 2010-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-13 08:17:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/135126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trascendenza/pseuds/trascendenza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel tries to navigate the changes in her life. <em>"Just stop pretending, all right?" She said softly, pulling him towards her.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Ties

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of those stories that actually wants to be 30k, but the plot bunny wasn't taking into account the fact that I have nowhere NEAR that much stamina, woe.

Rachel reached up and pressed her thumb and index finger on the tops of her eyebrows, a headache burgeoning right behind her forehead. The words on the reports were all starting to blur together, but she stretched her neck and kept reading despite the pain. She looked at the clock: 2:17AM. Another ten minutes, she decided, and turned the next page.

"Hey," Lucas' voice said softly, jarring her awake. His hands were gently prying the file folder from her hands.

"Hey," she said groggily, trying to shift out of the horrifically uncomfortable position she'd been in -- half-sitting, half-lying down, not quite either. "What time is it?"

"You don't wanna know," he said tiredly, setting the folder down on the nightstand, switching off the light and climbing in next to her. He didn't even bother to take off his clothes.

"Oh, Lucas," she said when she looked at the clock and saw that it was almost dawn. "When do you have to be up again?"

"Seven-thirty," he said, yawning. "There's a big test I have to supervise at eight, I promised Baylock I'd be there."

"You know, you can't…" But she felt his breath warm against the back of her neck and knew he was asleep.

She turned around, gently, making sure not to disturb him. His arm around her waist tightened a little, and even in the dark pre-dawn she could see the wrinkles marring his forehead, the corners of his mouth. She remembered a time when he'd looked young and peaceful while he slept, his cheek tucked against his hand and his mouth slightly open. Now he looked older, tense, his hands clenched into fists like he was ready to wake up fighting any moment.

She tucked the blankets a little higher around them, closing her eyes and trying not to wonder how much longer they could go on like this.

*

"Rachel," her father said, giving Rachel The Look, which was really unfair of him, "you've been using that career excuse for the past five years."

"And it's been true for the past five years," Rachel said, scooping some more pad thai onto her plate.

"Yes, and now you're one of the leading pediatricians in your field. I do have the articles to prove it," he said, sipping his iced tea. He was, as usual, dressed in an impeccable suit -- gray, with a blue tie -- and even in his so-called civilian attire he still had the air of a doctor about him. "Isn't it time you two thought about children?"

"At least let us enjoy our marriage for a little while!" She said, waiting for the tofu to stop steaming so she could eat it. "Besides, you don't see mom on my case, do you?"

"Your mother is a patient woman," he said, smiling the way he did whenever he talked about her mother. "It is one of the many reasons I married her. But I am not a patient man."

"Believe me," Rachel muttered, thinking of the many times he'd threatened to find her a nice Korean boy if Lucas didn't hurry up and propose, "I know."

"At least tell me you are thinking about it," he said. "That you won't put it off another five years."

And Rachel wanted to tell him yes, wanted to make up for what they both weren't mentioning -- the wedding hadn't been what any of them were expecting, and two of her aunts still weren't talking to her because she'd changed the date at the last minute. She wanted to tell him that as soon as the honeymoon period was over, she and Lucas were going to have a real talk about their future.

The truth was, she wasn't even sure when the honeymoon period would begin.

"I hear Fiona and Xander are trying again," she said, and her father's eyes narrowed at her, but he let it go.

"Your sister had a proper wedding, too," he said with a raised eyebrow, and Rachel sighed, trying to smile around the feeling of pad thai like a stone in her stomach.

*

"I have some bad news," Nigel said, his hand on the side of the crib. He was looking specifically at Molly, but there were all there -- JT, Arthur, Lucas. They stood in a semi-circle around the crib which had replaced one of the beds in the infirmary, their expressions grim.

"Is the baby ill?" Molly asked, taking a step forward and leaning over, looking down at him. He was on his back, the small swatch of his blond hair curled up like a cowlick, a blanket tucked in around him.

"No, nothing like that. He's remarkably healthy, everything considered. What's worrying me is that he's almost _too_ healthy."

"Too healthy?" Lucas said, laughing nervously, his hands clutching his elbows. "That can't be a bad thing."

JT looked thoughtful, hands clasped at the small of his back. He came to stand next to Molly. "He is awfully large for two weeks old."

"Exactly," Nigel said. "I thought that the two and a half month pregnancy was due solely to Libby's alien physiology, but he's displaying a rapidly accelerated rate of growth even though he tests one hundred percent human."

"To support that kind of growth you must be feeding him the high-protein formula," Molly said, thinking aloud. "So he's metabolizing like an infectee without displaying any mutation."

She didn't mention the dream, but she added it to the mental list she was keeping. _Possible signs_ , she'd labeled it, even as she'd hoped against hope that she'd never have to refer to it.

"Does this mean he's not going to be placed with a family?" Lucas said, his fingers tapping against his elbows. "I mean -- no offense, Doc, but this isn't exactly a great place for a kid to grow up."

Molly turned, putting a hand on Lucas' shoulder. "We're going to find a way to take care of him."

Lucas nodded, shooting her a grateful look. "Of course, Dr. Caffrey."

"What stage of development is at he at right now?" Arthur asked.

"From his size and motor skills, I'd say around 120 days," Nigel said.

"So if he keeps going at this current rate, in a little over and a month and a half this baby will be a year old," Arthur said.

They all looked at the crib. The baby was sleeping peacefully.

*

Rachel held the door to the apartments open for Mrs. Wong, nodding a polite hello.

"You're a good girl," Mrs. Wong said with a large smile that reached her eyes, her short white hair light in the morning sun.

"You have a good day," Rachel said, smiling back. She tucked the mail she'd just grabbed under her arm, planning to read it on her break at work, make sure with everything that had been happening lately they weren't behind on any bills. Half the letters were bent from being crammed into the box for four days; she and Lucas had both completely forgotten to check it.

She pulled her hood over her head and jogged across the street, walking to the bus stop. She was holding off on buying a new car as long as possible; she didn't know how she'd manage in the snow, but for now, she was enjoying the public transportation and how much better it was than Pasadena.

Passing the large black SUV that was always parked on this corner she waved at the two men with black sunglasses inside. They steadfastly didn't look at her.

Lucas always started jittering and talking a mile a minute whenever they walked by the SUV together, as if he could hide their presence under a shield of vocal distraction. She didn't bother asking from whom -- or what -- these men in black were protecting them. She knew he couldn't tell her.

She sat at the bus stop, flipping to her Bus Mix on her iPod and staring at the sky until the bus arrived. She boarded and went to the very back, watching the street behind. She wasn't surprised to see the SUV pull out and follow a few seconds later.

*

"Well, that alert last month said to seek medical attention if you started having any of those symptoms," the woman said, fiddling with her long hair. Her name was Tanisha Evans, according to her forms, and the nurse had told Rachel she'd been suffering night terrors and increased appetite.

Rachel sent up a quick prayer that she could deal with this call quickly. Darla had been forced to leave in the middle of her shift -- her husband had been in a near-fatal accident -- and they were all pitching in to cover, but little Faith Harrington in ICU was having trouble with her respirator and Rachel really needed to check on her.

"They had some number to call, but how do they think they're going to diagnose me over the phone?" Tanisha said, shaking her head. "And I need to know what's wrong with me _now._ "

"We're going to do everything we can to help you," Rachel said with a reassuring smile. "Lay back, please."

Tanisha did, but she was stiff as a board. Rachel laid a hand on her shoulder until she relaxed.

"Breathe in," she instructed, palpating Tanisha's stomach. Nothing unusual there. "And sit up again, please."

"Maybe you can give me some kinda sleeping pills?" Tanisha said.

Rachel had an unsettling moment of looking at Tanisha's face and seeing Lucas'; their weariness was identical.

"Once we get the test results back we'll see about that," Rachel said, checking off a few boxes on the form. "We're going to have to figure out where in your body the problem's originating, so we're going to do some scans."

"The -- the creature, in the forest," Tanisha said quietly, tilting her head up and looking straight into the fluorescent lights, her pupils contracting. "He scares me."

"Gina's going to help you now, and you and I can talk later, okay?" Rachel said, squeezing Tanisha's shoulder. She went into the hall and handed the chart off to Gina, leaving instructions to get in touch with the CDC and let them know they had another potential case.

*

"Hey, you," Molly said, reaching a hand down and tickling the baby's stomach. He kicked his feet, and when she put her index finger near his hand, he wrapped his five tiny fingers around it with a strong grip. His bright blue eyes focused on her.

"His motor skills are progressing even faster than his physiology," Nigel commented, standing beside her, his hands on his hips.

"If only he could tell us what's going through his mind," she said, running her thumb over his soft knuckles.

"Won't be long before he can," Nigel said.

*

Rachel sat at the table in the break room, using one hand to drink her mango Synergy and the other to sort through the mail. Junk, junk, junk, classified, junk, bill, junk, junk, bill, classified --

"Where are you taking me?" A woman screamed, and Rachel dropped the bill she'd been holding. Something about that voice --

"What about my scans? The doctor said I needed them!"

Then it clicked -- Tanisha Evans, the woman she'd ordered scans for. The CDC had gotten here remarkably fast. She stood, setting down the drink and hoping no one would rifle through her mail while she was gone.

She stepped into the hall and saw the two men hauling Tanisha off. They weren't being gentle.

"Hey!" She said, walking towards them. "Take it easy, would you? She's been through enough."

"Oh, Dr. Pegg, thank God," Tanisha said, relaxing in their grip.

"Ms. Evans, I'm sorry, I should have warned you that we'd called the CDC -- I mistakenly assumed you would know. It was negligent on my part."

"Excuse us, ma'am, but we really need to go," one of the men said, his expression stony behind his black sunglasses. Rachel turned on him, about to deliver a piece of his mind, but looking at his face she was struck with an intense and sudden sensation of déjà vu.

"Dr. Pegg? You called them? Well, if they're doctors, I don't mind going." Tanisha shook off their grip. "But I can walk on my own, thank you."

"I --" And Rachel looked at them, these nondescript but not unfamiliar men, and knew that they weren't from the CDC or any other agency that had a name.

She reached out, squeezing Tanisha's shoulder. "I think they can tell you what's wrong with you," and as she said it, she knew it was true.

Tanisha nodded and the man who hadn't spoken continued escorting her down the hall, while the other one hung back.

"Thank you," he said, and he looked just as expressionless as he had the day he'd picked up Lucas at 3AM two weeks ago, no explanations, no warning, just a knock on the door and two words: _Caffrey's orders._

"What's your name?" Rachel said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"That's class--"

She looked at him, narrowing her eyes.

He smiled, just a little, and inclined his head as if to say _all right, then._ "Cavennaugh. Now, if you'll excuse me, ma'am, I really do need to get back to work."

"Tell Lucas I said hi," she said, and watched him go.

*

"Hey, sis," she said when Fiona picked up.

"Rachel? What's wrong?"

"What do you mean what's wrong?" She said, pacing from one white wall of her office to another.

"You sound the same way you did when Bobby O'Connell threw a mud pie in your face in the third grade."

Rachel laughed. Count on Fiona to remember her earliest moments of humiliation. "I guess I'm not really having the greatest day."

"What happened?"

And suddenly Rachel knew how Lucas must feel, because she realized there was absolutely no way she could explain any of this. "Long story," she settled for, picking at the flaking paint on the wall. "It's just been a lot of change all at once, I guess."

"Sheesh, you think?" Fiona said, and Rachel could hear little Celia yelling something at her brother in the background. "New city, new place, new job, new marriage, not to mention a shotgun wedding and no honeymoon. Lucas better be pretty good in the sack, is all I'm saying."

Rachel laughed, dropping her forehead against the wall. "Fiiiiona," she said in her best don't-be-inappropriate imitation of their mother, but this felt so familiar that it was like curling up under a warm and comforting blanket.

"It's a lot to adjust to," Fiona said, her tone gentling. "I don't care how bigshot a doctor you are, moving to a city where the only people you know are your husband and your parents? It's going to be hard."

"Yeah, tell me about it. Between my job and his job we can hardly find a minute, and even when we do, we're both so tired we're more likely to nap together than talk."

" _Nap_?" Fiona said, clearly incredulous at the concept of "sleeping together" meaning just that. "You've got some problems, girl, and you give me one good reason not to book a flight out there this weekend."

"It's fine, really." Rachel said. "It's just good to hear your voice."

She could picture Fiona smiling, looking away and tucking her hair behind her ear the way she did whenever someone said something nice to her.

"Seriously, though -- you guys doing okay? I know I make the whole marriage thing look effortless, but believe you me, we've had to work damn hard to get here."

Rachel rubbing a thumbnail into the wall. "Well."

"Yeah?" Fiona prodded.

"I --" Rachel's jaw tightened just thinking about it. "What would you do if you suspected Xander was involved in something dangerous?"

"Whoa." There was the sound of something _thunking_ and a chair scraping across the floor. "Okay, I'm sitting down. Now tell me what the hell you're talking about."

"I'm not sure," Rachel said truthfully, "but I'm scared."

*

"This has always been a potential issue," JT said, and Molly recognized that there was nothing aggressive in what he was saying -- he was simply stating the facts.

Molly nodded. "She was already almost infected. It was only a matter of time before something slipped."

"So what are we going to do about it?"

"I'm not sure yet," Molly said, looking at the stills from the hospital's security camera.

*

It was two thirty when he came in. She set aside the book she'd been pretending to read, standing up.

"Hey, hon, what are you doing up so late?" Lucas asked, dropping his keys in the bowl they kept by the door. He looked tired, and it would be so easy to just brew them a pot of tea and put off this conversation for another day, but she didn't want another day to be the next time he was almost killed or strange men came for someone at the hospital.

She didn't want to keep sitting on the couch late at night wondering if her husband was still alive. Whether she'd even be the first to know if he weren't.

"I met a co-worker of yours today," she said evenly, and she purposefully tried to keep her arms at her sides, to relax her body, because they'd had enough fights recently to last her a lifetime.

Lucas stopped flipping through papers on the countertop and looked at her. "You what?"

"He said his name was Cavennaugh. He claimed to be from the CDC."

Something behind Lucas' eyes seemed to slot into place, and she could see the lie starting to form even before he'd opened his mouth.

"Don't bother, please," she said, and more bitterness than she'd intended leaked into her words. "I've heard them all."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Rachel."

She laughed, a harsh sound. "What do I want you to say, Lucas?" She walked across the living room, coming to stand in front of him. She took one of his hands in hers. "I want you to say that the next time you get sick I won't have to hear about it from Dr. Caffrey. I want to hear you say that you'll stop telling me convenient lies and pretending it's okay."

"But, Rachel --"

"No, Lucas," she said, shaking her head. "It's too late. I know, whatever it is, whatever's going on that the people you work for are dragging you away in the middle of the night and are taking people from the hospital masquerading as the CDC -- I know it's not okay."

Lucas was biting his lower lip, and the way he was looking at her, she wanted to tell him that it was okay, that she wasn't disappointed or angry or hurt. But she was, and she couldn't tell him not to lie in one breath and do it herself in the next.

"Just stop pretending, all right?" She said softly, pulling him towards her.

"All right," he said against her hair, and she knew he was trying to tell the truth.

*

"Darling," came a voice that caused her to instantly straighten her spine.

"Mother," she said, turning around slowly. Her stomach began to curdle.

"Whatever business Lucas has you tangled up in, I want it put to a stop right now," she said with the air of a woman who was accustomed to having her will immediately obeyed.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mother," Rachel said, leaning back and bracing her hands on the desk.

Her mother, a handful of inches shorter than Rachel even in her heels, still managed to take up the entire room just by looming in the doorway. Her hair was pulled into a severe but not-a-hair-out-of-place bun and her suit was soft blue and tailored to an exact fit.

"Dissembling will get you nowhere," her mother said imperiously, her heels tapping as she stepped inside. "Fiona may think she has the ability to hide things from me, but I assure you, she does not."

"I've got it under control."

Her mother's dark brown eyes fixated on her like they were lasers and she was a target. "Is that so?"

 _That is so_ , Rachel thought in a sarcastic imitation, but out loud she said, "Yes."

Her mother watched her for a long moment. Then, abruptly, she laughed, an uncharacteristically light and airy sound.

"My little girl," her mother said, patting Rachel's cheek in a way that was both affectionate and condescending, "all grown up."

Rachel felt an odd mix of annoyed and touched, a combination usually only her mother managed to evoke. "It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"You'll be there for Sunday dinner with the girls," her mother said, and the moment passed. Rachel smiled to cover the grimace that automatically came along with anticipating an entire evening with fifteen ageing socialites.

"Ill be there," Rachel promised, because no matter how much her mother made her grind her teeth, she was family.

*

"Lucas," Molly said, intercepting him in the hallway. "We need to talk."

"Can it wait? I'm already behind on finalizing the upgrades on the --" Then he stopped, noticing her expression. "It can't wait, can it?"

Molly shook her head. "I'm afraid not."

*

Rachel was in the middle of washing her hands when her beeper went off.

"Crap," she said, shaking her left hand off and awkwardly using her wrist to tilt up the face of the pager. When she saw what it said she grabbed a fist full of paper towels and started jogging towards the elevator, toweling off her hands as she went.

The elevator dinged and she tried to walk quickly but casually up to the nurse's station.

"You paged?" She said to Gina, tapping her fingers on the counter, her nails clicking.

"Dr. Manetti," Gina said, pointing to the end of the hall.

"Thanks," Rachel said, heading for his exam room. When she got there, she grabbed a random clipboard from the wall and opened it up, entering the room without knocking.

"Dr. Pegg," Fred Manetti said, his wide forehead wrinkling as his eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, Dr. Manetti, excuse me," Rachel said, putting on her best flustered laugh. "Darla told me she'd wanted a second opinion on the night terrors patient."

"Well, yes, Mr. Bates here is experiencing night terrors, but he's my patient."

"Wait," she said, pretending to consult the chart. "Increased appetite?"

"Yes, but this must be a mix-up, because he was only admitted this past hour and I'm the only one who's seen him."

"You're right," she said, closing the clipboard. "The charts must have gotten crossed. I'm sorry, Mr. Bates," she said, nodding in his direction, and the confused looking older man smiled tentatively at her, like he was sorry to have caused all this trouble, "I'll go and get this straightened out."

She left the exam room and closed the door behind her, putting the clipboard back in its appropriate slot. She waited until she was in the elevator again before opening her phone.

"Exam room 4A, second floor. Male, probably in his 50s, last name Bates, I didn't get his first. He's having the dreams and increased appetite. Thought you might want to know."

She hung up on Lucas' voice mail and got out on her floor.

*

"Rachel Pegg," the man who said his name was Cavennaugh greeted her on the other side of her door.

She looked at the two other men with him, in black suits and standing at attention.

"Time for me to go in the black SUV, huh?" She said.

The corner of his lip twitched. "That's the long and short of it, yeah."

"Let me just get my jacket," she said.

*

"...four primary methods of infection, with multiple variations and methods of delivery for each..."

"...you'll be given a complete laboratory, and whatever equipment you need will be provided..."

"...we have a population of infectees held in our facility in Virginia, and more still in the streets of DC..."

"...we estimate he'll be developed to the level of an eight-year old within the span of a year..."

"...coordinate with Dr. Fenway to determine the best regimen for his care, and you will become his primary physician..."

Rachel watched the monitors, hardly blinking, and felt Lucas watching her. Her grip on his hand was tight.

*

"We'll leave you two some time to talk," Dr. Caffrey said, when the presentation was done. Baylock and Cavennaugh followed her out.

She sat there for a few minutes, just breathing, staring at the wall of photographs showing her the impossible. Lucas sat beside her, his hand still holding hers.

He stirred. "Rachel, I'm --"

Rachel shook her head, slowly, her mind still processing. She felt like she'd just been immersed and she was finding her way back up to the surface. "Lucas, don't."

"But I'm so --"

She turned, stopping him, putting two fingers to his lips. "I knew when I married you that you weren't perfect. It's okay."

"I wanted to keep you safe," he said quietly, against her fingertips. "I should have wanted to tell you, but I didn't. I wanted you never to know."

She moved her hand, cupping his cheek. "No more lies, Lucas. Not anymore. We're in this together."

He let out a shaky breath, eyes painfully earnest as he looked at her. "No more lies."

She kissed him, knowing he was telling the truth.

*

"There's someone we'd like you to meet," Dr. Caffrey said and Rachel followed her through the hallways, still feeling strange and small in light of everything she'd just learned a few hours ago. Her laboratory was a dream come true and the scope of work she was going to be doing was beyond incredible.

She was overwhelmed by the duality of what was happening: the elation right up against the terror, the relief and anxiety side by side.

"This is Dr. Fenway's lab," Dr. Caffrey said, and Rachel nodded hello to Dr. Fenway, whom she'd met earlier.

"Here he is," Dr. Caffrey said, gesturing to the crib and stepping aside.

She leaned over the crib and the baby burbled up at her, his fist shoved into his mouth, the large curl of his blond hair bobbing as he rocked his head back and forth.

"Hi there," Rachel said, starting to reach her hands down, but then she thought better of it. She looked at Dr. Caffrey. "Can I…?"

"Of course," Dr. Caffrey said. "As far as we can tell, he poses no threat. Dr. Fenway is prepared to brief you on what he's learned so far, whenever you're ready."

Rachel nodded. Dr. Caffrey, as if sensing Rachel's mood, took a few steps back, giving them some space. She leaned over the crib once again and picked the little boy up.

"Hi there," she whispered to him, and he settled comfortably into her arms. He was vibrant and healthy; it was hard to believe he'd been born from an alien body.

"Looks like I'm going to be taking care of you from now on," she said, and his clear blue eyes focused on her face, like he was listening to every word she said.

"I'll see you soon," she said, and gently set him back down with one last rub on his belly.

"Looks like the two of you will get along just fine," Dr. Caffrey said.

"Yeah," Rachel said, smiling, "I think we will."


End file.
